


The Heart Will Want

by hernameinthesky



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, F/F, Internalized Homophobia, Post-Canon, Werewolf Lavender Brown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29176335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hernameinthesky/pseuds/hernameinthesky
Summary: “Don’t tell me it was a mistake,” Lavender says quietly, and Padma remembers half a dozen drunk kisses, fervent fumbling in dark corners of parties. “I’m not willing to play games anymore, Pads. I’ve done it before... too many times.”
Relationships: Lavender Brown/Padma Patil
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	The Heart Will Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vendettadays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vendettadays/gifts).



Padma wakes slowly, dreamily aware of the shifting of weight on the bed... the whistle of the kettle in the next room... the room cast with cool, early-morning shadows...She watches Lavender moving around the room, pulling on her skirt with an intriguing wiggle of her hips, throwing Padma’s dirty socks in the washing basket, stopping in front of the full length mirror to gather her hair into a ponytail. Padma only uses the mirror to check herself over for stains or unruly labels before she goes out and has never found it wanting, but Lavender keeps shifting it minute degrees. The pale sunlight washes over her as she twists this way and that, adjusting her clothes, pausing to take sips of steaming tea then resting the cup precariously on a pile of books at her feet.

“I’d like to paint you like this,” Padma murmurs, and Lavender jumps and spins to look at her.

“I didn’t realise you were awake,” she says, giggling. Padma regrets drawing her attention, because her movements become stiff and self-conscious. Padma’s joy fizzles into uncertainty as Lavender continues to avoid her gaze, fluttering in front of the mirror.

“For an artist, you have rubbish light,” Lavender says in an airy voice.

“That’s why I made this my bedroom and next door my studio.”

When Lavender doesn’t reply, Padma sits up, awkwardly wrapping the duvet around her naked body.

“Look, Lav-”

“Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what?”

Lavender finally looks at her, examining her in the mirror with narrow eyes. Like this she might look frightening - the scar pulling one corner of her mouth down, the pallor of her skin warning of the upcoming moon, warning of something not quite human - if she could ever be anything but beautiful in Padma’s eyes.

“Don’t tell me it was a mistake,” Lavender says quietly, and Padma remembers half a dozen drunk kisses, fervent fumbling in dark corners of parties. “I’m not willing to play games anymore, Pads. I’ve done it before... too many times.”

It had been easy last night ( _you drive me crazy, I love you, I’ve always loved you_ ), now the words stick in her throat. Lavender continues primping, but even Padma can tell it’s for show; there’s only so smooth a skirt can be, particularly when that skirt has been taken off in a hurry and left on the floor all night. She’d struggled with the zip, hands shaking so badly, but then it had come undone and she’d gotten her hands on Lavender’s skin and it became all hot kisses and grasping hands, Lavender’s hair getting in the way, in their mouths until they stopped, giggling, to tie it back. A stretch of time afterwards, before they fell asleep, Padma resting her head on Lavender’s stomach, warm and cosy.

Padma finds her t-shirt scrunched up at the foot of the bed and slips into it, relieved it mostly preserves her modesty. She can’t have this conversation naked, but maybe she can have it.

She pauses behind Lavender, not quite touching, looking over her shoulder at both their reflections. The pillow imprint on her face looks like a mockery of the scars rippling across Lavender’s cheek and jaw. Her heart throbs painfully at the wary look in Lavender’s eyes.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” she says, trying to make her voice firm, wishing she were as good with words as she is with a paintbrush. “Maybe it’s way too soon, and I don’t want to put pressure on this, or make you feel like you have to say it back because you don’t... but I meant it. I love you. And I’m sorry for, for not saying it. For making you feel... I never meant that _you_ were a mistake, Lav. It’s not about you-”

“I know that.”

Padma nods jerkily. “Good. Good, because it isn’t. It never has been. If anything you’re the only thing that’s kept me from, I don’t know, locking myself in the closet? Dating Terry Boot?”

“Terry Boot?” Lavender asks, momentarily distracted.

“Yeah, he’s asked me out a couple of times. But I couldn’t, not when I knew what it was like with you.”

Lavender smiles, a shy, pleased smile Padma rarely sees on her face and that makes her heart expand in her chest. She can’t help smiling back, and it’s as easy as breathing to wrap her arms around Lavender’s waist and rest her head on her shoulder.

“So...?”

Lavender entwines their fingers. “So, we’re going to try this for real?”

“I want to, if you do. If you want to put up with me.”

“Don’t.” Lavender squeezes her hands tightly. “Don’t say that.”

Padma turns her face into the slope of her neck, breathing in the coconut scent of her hair. “I want to try.”


End file.
